Delphi's Determination
by DarkPrincess1996
Summary: The perspectives of the Potter and Malfoy heirs are well known in the eighth installment of the Harry Potter series, but what about a certain young Riddle whom the world forgot? How did she feel upon being confronted with all that would have been hers had things gone differently? [Rated T for some language and suggested violence/trauma]


_Stay focused, _Delphi repeated to herself again. This had to be the umpteenth time in the last two minutes. _You have a job to do, Riddle; stick to the task at hand…_

Yet again Delphini found her thoughts trailing off as she took in the sight around her, mind swimming. The staircases rotated and turned overhead as hundreds of students rumbled past her on their way to class. Delphi quickly realized that the impervius charm she'd cast upon herself was unnecessary; even with her newly bleached curls and sharp black nails, she doubted anyone would have given her the slightest glance.

_But where was that boy?_ She'd been hunting for several minutes, ever since the last bell had signaled the end of the class period, but Scorpius Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Now, looking at the mass of rotating stairs overhead, Delphi knew that she would never be able to find her second cousin before the start of his next class even if he was in this part of the castle. She groaned as she looked up again; the stairs were suddenly much more sparsely populated then they'd been a moment ago; the next class period must be about to begin.

Sure enough, the bell sounded again, and the few students that remained on the stairs began scurrying off in all directions. Delphi cursed fluently under her breath, realizing quickly that she'd been speaking parseltounge. She cut herself off abruptly, thinking that at least if anyone heard her they'd probably assume she was a gas leak.

Delpi sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the beginnings of a migraine throbbing at her temples and behind her eyes. She'd pulled a muscle her neck the previous day helping ancient Amos out of his bed and the accompanying muscle tension was giving her constant headaches. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the cool stone wall, thinking…

She was off at a run, then, her heart racing. Of course; why hadn't she thought of it before? She could find Scorpius' records; they'd be bound to contain his class schedule! There was only one issue, however; the records were bound to be in the Headmistress' office, and there was no chance of her getting inside without the password. Still, it was the only shot she had.

Delphi ran, cringing as the sound of her combat boots rang through the now empty halls. Her mother had walked these halls once, her beauty the envy of every girl and in the heart of every boy. She'd married less than a year after graduation, to a man who did not deserve her and whom she did not care for. No man deserved Bellatrix Black Lestrange, just as no man deserved Delphini. No one...except her father.

She tried not to think of him, but the images came unbidden into her mind without her permission. She'd only seen a few photographs of her father during his school days, found buried in the old yearbooks that Euphemia Rowle had buried in trunks in the attic. Delphi often retreated there during rainy days and spent hours exploring, imagining she worked in a museum. She would much rather work in a place like that, or perhaps in the cool, dry darkness of an archive or library, than the overheated, loud, smelly cage that was St. Oswalds.

Her head throbbed again at the thought of her workplace; she'd been scheduled to lead arts and crafts the following afternoon, and the last time she'd done this it had taken nearly a week to get the last of the everlasting glue out of her hair. Although this had proved useful; she'd discovered some of her natural dark brown peeking out from her roots in the process. She'd quickly touched them up; no one could see her natural color. Although her hair was a lighter shade of brown than her mother's had been, more closely resembling that of Bellatrix's disinherited sister (something that made Delphini' stomach roil) the combination of her hair and looks would be too obvious, especially now that she was older.

Delphi had been able to see some of her mother in her own face, though not as striking as some of the other girls she'd known who were practically dopplegangers of their mothers. Yet in Mrs. Rowle's attic she had discovered something amazing; she looked remarkably like her father.

Granted the resemblance wasn't blatant, as she was the _daughter_ of the Dark Lord, as opposed to a son, but it was nonetheless striking. They had the same shaped eyes; large and incredibly deep set. Her nose was more her mothers, but the subtle curve of her jaw and cheekbones, as well as her small yet full mouth were undoubtedly Tom Riddle's. She'd sat there for hours, mirror in one hand, yearbook in the other, mouth agape as she listened to the rain and Cornelia the augurey's distant cries from several floors below.

It made Delphini's heart swell just to think of it; swell so much that it felt it would burst her ribcage. She wanted to scream, to wail, to announce to the world who she was, hear her cries echo and ring throughout these ancient halls that she'd been denied and know that all would hear her, heed her, fear her and obey and accept her at last…

Delphi only realized she'd reached the headmasters office when she heard the sudden grinding of stone on stone. She ducked behind a pillar, checking to see if her charm was still in place. It was. Panting, she peered around the ancient marble and fought back an audible gasp.

There were three people exiting the headmaster's office. Elderly Headmistress McGonnagal emerged, clutching a piece of parchment in her hand. Flanking her on either side were the Potters.

It felt like time stood still as she stood there, invisible even to herself, watching them, the myriad of emotions swirling inside her Delphi thought for sure she would found a hysterical laugh rising in her throat at the irony of it all. It should be her, Delphini Riddle, center stage with the world at her feet. At her father's side. _She _should be meeting with the Headmistress about school policy not-not THEM.

Delphi clutched her hand to her mouth to stifle her hyperventilating. _It's not FAIR! _She wailed internally, watching Potter turn away from McGonagall and begin walking briskly down the hallway. He seemed agitated about something; good. Truth be told, once her job was done Potter would not live as long as to face whatever was troubling him now, but that wouldn't stop her from reveling in his pain for the time being. This man, this filthy usurping halfblood, had taken everything from her when she'd been a mere nineteen months old, unable to grasp what was happening let alone lend aid. _And he doesn't even know I exist…_

Luckily she wasn't given the chance to dwell on this. While she expected the Headmistress to return to her office, McGonagal instead turned and began walking down the hall with a noticeable limp. _She's a year older than father… _Delphi thought, unsure of how to feel about that. Not that the Dark Lord would ever let something as trivial as _age _get the better of him; he who had conquered death itself...

Yet as the Headmistress walked away, the spiral staircase to her office began to disappear behind the stone griffin. Panicked, Delphi sprang forward, sprinting on the balls of her feet and thanking her lucky stars that the older woman was already rounding the corner at the end of the hall. She managed to squeeze herself inside just as the office sealed itself shut with an audible _clunk._ Delphi clutched her aching ribs and slumped against the wall as the stairs took her up, making a mental note to work on her endurance. She'd come so far; there was no way her body was going to betray her now…

_I wonder if that's how Dad felt…_

The stairs stopped with a sudden jolt, and Delphi lurched forward, pinwheeling wildly for a moment before regaining her balance. Face flushed, she straightened up, grateful both for her impervius charm and the fact that the office was empty. Too empty.

Astonished, she looked at the empty walls. Everything she'd heard about Hogwarts always included tales of the hundreds of portraits everywhere in the castle. Yet the walls were empty now; even the frames were gone.

Mystified, she crept forward, ears pricked for any indication that McGonagal was returning. Hearing nothing but deafening silence, she glanced down at the piece of paper at the very center of what she assumed to be the Headmistress' desk.

_Minerva,_

_We've collected all the portraits and will have them returned in approximately three days. I've never heard of a stinksap bomb before, but leave it to George Weasley to develop such a thing. By the looks of Headmaster Dippet and many of his contemporaries, the students responsible for this probably gave the fellow enough money to retire on!_

_All the best,_

_Gregory McMillian_

For a moment Delphi could only stand there gawking at her good luck, then she immediately turned and began scanning the office. Where, where, _where were the student records?_

She raised her wand, and whispered "Invient records!"

To her surprise, two folders just to the left of the previous letter began to glow a pale same light radiated from several large cabinets lining the walls. Mystified, she picked it up. _Albus Serverus Potter _was written across the top in scarlet ink, the sign of a Gryffindor student. _Wait, did those two change that? _Delphi thought, head cocked in confusion. _I thought he was in Slytherin..._The second beneath it was what she'd been searching for; Scorpius Draco Malfoy's folder lay there, neatly labeled in green.

She opened Scorpius' file and almost immediately found his current class schedule, almost as if McGonagall had been utilizing it as well. Scanning it eagerly, she saw that he had a free period at the moment, but at the next bell he would be headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by...Professor Hermione Jean Granger?

_Huh, _she thought, _So that's something else those two changed. Apparently she never married that bloodtraitor Weasley. I suppose that means none of their brats exist either... _

Delphi wondered for a moment why Albus had failed to mention this in any of his letters to her (and Merlin, there were many…) and came to the conclusion the smitten little idiot was too horrified by the idea of cancelling out his cousins' existence to face it in writing. Oh, but how that little git had gone _on _about how _lonely _he was, how confused and afraid and how there were only two people he could talk too about this, and how his ickle bestie Scorbsy was ignoring him and he had _no idea why!_

Delphi snorted derisively at the memory. Albus was such a fool, just like his father. Clearly the Potters would never learn that sentiment just made you vulnerable, though this was to her benefit, of course. After all, it was his obvious schoolboy crush on her that was making all of this so easy in the first place.

She went to replace the folder when a small slip fell out. It was written seemingly by the Headmistress and contained only a single sentence, as if scrawled quickly. "Keep separated from Albus Potter."

Bewildered, she picked up Albus' file. Sure enough, "Keep separated from Scorpius Malfoy" was written on a piece of parchment in the same hurried hand.

_Is that what Potter was here about? _She wondered, carefully replacing both files so that the desk appeared undisturbed. _Well, at least I'll be able to slip the knowledge to Albus somehow; not that I need to earn any more infatuation points with the brat…_

Delphi glanced at the large grandfather clock near the window; she still had forty minutes until Scorpius' class ended. She turned to leave, wondering how to kill the time, when something caught her eye and she froze.

A million emotions flooded through her; anger, joy, euphoria, grief, bitterness, wonder...she found herself breathless again. As quickly as these feelings overwhelmed her, they all conglomerated into a single entity. Her determination felt like iron in her bones.

_No! _She chastised herself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! You're putting the mission in jeopardy! Don't you little idiot! Don't you know enough about your identity already?_

But Delphi had already crossed the office in three long strides, eyes fixed on the shabby wizard's hat on top of the bookshelf. Her arm reached out, seemingly of its own accord, and took it, pulling the ancient thing on her own head.

She felt the weight of her lost life keenly at this; instead of falling down to cover her eyes as it did to most children, the hat perched itself perfectly on top of her adult's head, pinning her voluminous curls to the sides of her face.

"Ah," a small voice sighed in her ear. "So you are not dead."

"Is that what she told you?" Delphi asked, her teeth coming together with an audible snap. Euphemia Rowle had kept many things from her, including her Hogwarts letters. The bitter old woman had given several half-arsed excuses, none of them making any sense, as to why Delphi should not attend Hogwarts. The one she'd most readily accepted was that of her mother's identity. She'd always known Bellatrix was her mother. She'd never really guessed at her father's identity, though looking back on her childhood now it seemed only too obvious.

That look; that _look_ in Madame Rowle's eyes had not been disdain, as Delphi had always assumed. It was fear, mixed with a measure of anticipation. She'd often called Delphi her "little magpie". Delphini had always assumed this was because of her tendency to collect trinkets as a child, particularly jewelry. It was later she learned, upon finding the woman in a drunken stupor after she'd discovered her true parentage, that she'd been dubbed thusly due to the bird's tendency to deposit it's eggs in the nests of songbirds for them to raise.

"After all," the old woman had croaked, her brandy glass still clutched in her hand. "Your mother was only a raven by marriage."

The flash of green light that reverberated through her memory was enough to jolt Delphi back to the present.

"Indeed," the hat said, sounding oddly satisfied about something. "I believe you were to have perished of dragon pox at the age of nine and a half. I knew the old woman was lying, of course; Hogwarts keeps a close watch on it's candidates. However given your...circumstances, my dear, I could see why you chose not to join us-"

"I chose nothing!" Delphi spat. "Now tell me what I want to know!"

The hat was silent. She sat stock still, hands clasped in her lap, feeling uncannily like a child about to be severely scolded.

Her frazzled mind had time for one more _idiot _shot in her own direction before the hat spoke again.

"How very intriguing," it mused. "I must say I detect much duality in you, Miss Riddle."

Delphi sat still and tried not to roll her eyes; if this patchwork flea trap wasn't going to tell her anything she didn't already know she may as well leave now…

"You've got a lot of nerve, breaking in here." the hat went on, sounding as though it were reading her resume. "Very daring; and I can see there is great strength in you…"

Delphi wasn't sure where the hat was going with this, but she wasn't for it. "What are you getting at?" she asked bluntly, straining her ears for any hint at Headmistress McGonagall's return. Her curls were beginning to stick to her face as she sat there, sweating.

"What I'm 'getting at', my dear, is that you are what is commonly known as a 'hatstall'." the hat said dryly. "At least...you would have been. I'm dead set between two choices for you, Miss Riddle, and I'm at a bit of a loss as what direction I would have taken…"

The "would have" was a white hot sword in her heart but Delphi forced herself to speak through gritted teeth. "One of these is Slytherin, I have no doubt?"

She didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but she couldn't hide the strain in her voice. Delphi had always been proud of her own dualistic nature until now; but how could the hat consider fit for anything other than Slytherin? _And what was the other choice?_

"Well, yes," the hat said dryly. "And the other...you'd also be a stunning candidate for Gryffindor House."

Delphi didn't recall standing up, or taking the hat off. Yet suddenly the hat was across the office and she was on her feet, wand in hand, breath rattling through clenched teeth.

"YOU DARE?!" she shrieked, heedless of being discovered now. "YOU DARE CONSIDER SUCH A THING FOR THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN HERSELF? HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE-"

She froze, suddenly rigid. Had that been the sound of stone on stone? Was someone coming? Her gaze traveled back to the hat, which was watching her with something close to curiosity in its gaze.

"I never did give you my final choice." the frayed, patched thing on the floor went on. "Given your determination, cunning, and the ambition of your plan-yes, I know all about that," the hat added to her stunned expression. "Nothing is hidden from me, my dear; and I'd be lying if I said you haven't proven yourself a leader...I would have chosen Slytherin, I think, in the end…"

It was enough. Delphi raised her wand and sent two silent spells simultaneously from its tip. The first cleared the hat's memory, or so she hoped. She'd never actually tried a memory spell on anything other than a human before. The second was certainly successful, though, as the hat slumped forward, unconscious.

She eyed the ragged thing curiously for a moment, head tilted slightly to the side and eyes narrowed. She recalled a story from one of the few Death Eaters who had escaped the Battle of Hogwarts unscathed; how her father had set the wretched thing alight after placing it atop Longbottom's head. She was sorely tempted to imitate him now, but her innate practicality won out; she must not be discovered.

With a sigh she raised her wand free hand, flexing her fingers slightly. She was pleased to see the hat float back to its previous position without stirring. Most likely it would awaken later thinking it had dozed off, and she was pleased with how her wandless magic was coming along.

Delphi looked at her watch and gave a start of surprise; she still had thirty-seven minutes before Scorpius got out of class. It had all taken much less time than she'd thought.

_I should find where that Professor Granger's classroom is,_ she thought to herself, desperate to find a distraction from the strange, broken beating in her chest. She could hear it's reverberations, echoing in time with the Sorting Hat's words that still bounced relentlessly inside her skull. _Would have chosen...Gryffindor...decided not to join us...your choice...Miss Riddle…_

Tossing her head so her silver ponytail lashed violently, Delphi stalked towards the staircase just as the Sorting Hat began to stir.

_Where...its got to be around here somewhere...what? _

Delphi stopped in astonishment as the all too familiar sight of the girl's lavoratory door; she'd gone in a circle again. She growled in frustration; one of her many quirks was her uncanny ability to get herself lost in even the most straightforward of circumstances.

She recalled with abject mortification a time when she was six and had become separated from Madame Rowle while running errands in Diagon Alley. She'd stood frozen with terror as witches and wizards milled past her, wondering desperately what to do. Of course, she knew now why her guardian had impressed upon her so strongly not to speak to unknown persons without her presence, but at the time she'd merely been ripped asunder by the simultaneous terror of both losing her strict guardian and only being able to find her through disobedience.

For what felt like the umpteenth time that day she forced herself back into the present. _Yes, the present, _she thought bitterly. _The present I worked so hard to make my own, and after all that work still isn't right…_

She couldn't keep her mind from wandering along with her feet down the deserted corridors, down the familiar path it had taken so many times since learning her true identity. THe image swam before her mind's eye, more clear than reality itself.

She stood at her father's side, on his left, most likely, as her mother had more than proved herself worthy of standing at his right. But this wouldn't be a slight to her; it simply was. She was his, and hers, and they were hers as well…

The world was on it's knees before Delphi and her parents, her hair (its natural brown; no need to hide anymore) lashing in the fierce wind when her fantasy seemed to bleed into reality. Delphi suddenly felt as though the fierce wind in her mind's eye swept over her suddenly. She froze, stifling a gasp of shock and disgust. She examined her clothing through her impervius charm, but to her surprise she didn't seem to even be damp, though she was cold enough to have just been doused in ice water.

A silvery figure with brunette pig tails and thick glasses was looking around in confusion.

"Who's there?" the ghost girl asked in a thick voice. Dephi kept perfectly still, surprised to find the girl had tears in her eyes. She'd never had any experience with ghosts; was the stereotype of wailing spirits to be believed? Yet there were so many ghosts within Hogwarts...hadn't there been mention of one who cried all the time? Weeping something-or-other...no...Moaning...Milicent?

"Myrtle!" Delphi whispered in astonishment, color flooding her face as she realized her mistake. The weeping girl spun around, looking for the source of the sound, and Delphi recognized her this time. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren, formerly of Ravenclaw house, had died at the close of the school year of 1943. Her father had been listed as a Slytherin House prefect that same year. She still looked exactly as she had in her school portrait, glanced over by Delphi during one of those countless rainy days in Madame Rowle's attic.

Myrtle Warren, now Moaning Myrtle, continued to squint through her thick spectral spectacles for several more seconds, pausing to polish them on her robes before sniffing indignantly and floating off down the corridor.

Delphi had every intention of continuing her search. She still had just over half an hour before Scorpius got out of class. Yet upon seeing Myrtle Warren she suddenly realized where she was.

_This is mine,_ Delphi thought dizzily. _My legacy. My father's inheritance. MINE._

Breathless, she pressed her ear to the door; the laboratory seemed to be empty. Quickly scanning the still empty hallway, she dashed inside, making a beeline for the sinks. She didn't bother to look; that would take too much time. Instead, she ran her fingers along the taps, her long black nails staccato against the worn metal, searching…

_There._

She stooped, seeing for her own eyes the tiny coiled serpent embossed in the metal of the sink. Delphi gave the room one more quick scan before letting parseltongue flow freely from her lips.

_Open, _she hissed.

The small tab with the engraved serpent began to spin, emitting an eerie white glow. Delphi yelped in shock and jumped back, and just in time. The entire sink had begun to move, descending out of sight and leaving what appeared to be a large exposed pipe in its wake.

Delphi felt as though she were in a dream as she stepped forward, the smell of the open sewer hitting her nose and instinctively making her cringe. _No one would have suspected me, _she thought dizzily. _And it would have been so easy for me to get in here; I AM a girl…_

A hysterical giggle rose to Delphi's lips and she quickly stifled it, looking around nervously. Cost clear, she glanced once more at her watch; she still had plenty of time.

Hesitantly Delphi crouched down, the toe of her black leather boot skimming the rim of the pipe. The question of how she was to get down was quickly answered for her; a staircase emerged from the pipe, made of metal and stone. She was forced to crouch slightly, but other than that Dephi experienced no difficulty in maneuvering. It was dark, so she couldn't see the end of the tunnel, yet she moved quickly. The rational part of her brain told her that this was due to her time crunch in finding Scorpius, yet in reality it was the broken beating of her heart that spurred her on, drawing her forward, as if the aching hole she'd felt for nearly all of her twenty-four years would be filled at the end of this passage.

Delphi barely noticed as the passage leveled out. She continued on, lighting her wand wordlessly with an impatient flick. The hawthorn and unicorn hair tool flared to life, a reflection of her agitation. She'd heard that her cousin Draco, sixteen years her senior, had the same combination, though she'd also been told that his wand was "reasonably pliant" and had dark wood, while her own was "slightly yielding" in flexibility and was made of the palest wand wood she'd seen apart from-

_I can't think about that now, _she thought, her breath gasping raggedly up and down her throat as she jogged. _I'll go mad if I do, and there is still so much to be done…_

The light from her wand illuminated the slimy walls, bouncing erratically as she quickened her pace. She passed odd shapes in the shadows that could have been piles of stone or something more, but she hadn't the time to investigate. _Why didn't I think to do this after meeting with the little idiot? _She wailed inwardly, but pushed onward.

A sudden wall loomed ahead of her, two pairs of glittering green eyes peering at her from a space above her head. Panting, Delphi squinted, ready to shut her eyes at any moment. Then she remembered two things simultaneously; basilisks had yellow eyes, not green, and that this one had been slain just over three years before she'd been born.

_It's almost a shame, _Delphi thought, feeling her stiletto style nails bite into her palms. _Once my plan is complete Potter will have died before my second birthday, and yet there is so much I wish I could pay him back for; so much he robbed from me…_

The doorway to the chamber loomed before her, but suddenly Delphi found herself mute. Her breathing, which had evened out after her mad sprint, had once again begun to creep towards hyperventilation. Shaking, she glanced at her watch. Only twenty-five minutes left.

"_O-open!"_ she hissed breathlessly.

The door remained motionless, and for one horrible instance Delphi thought it would remain that way. An example of her life, nothing but coincidence after coincidence leading up to a conclusion that was so grandiose that she was eager to believe it, only to realize too late that none of it was true-

The twin serpents parted as the door cracked open down the center. Delphi felt her very bones quivering as she stepped inside.

Delphi wasn't sure how long she'd knelt there, the filthy water of the Chamber soaking into her jeans. Occasionally she felt something unnervingly solid brush past the skin exposed by the tears in the denim but she ignored it.

The bones were so large, the few ribs that were still upright reached over her head should she care to stand. She'd been alternating where her dead stare rested; sometimes on the sodden, slightly stinking remains of the basilisk, sometimes on the enormous floating head of Slytherin that adorned the far Chamber wall (its mouth was agape, as if astonished to see someone else here trying to revive a long dead mission).

She didn't know how much time had passed, and at the moment she didn't care. Delphi let her hand rest on one of the long exposed vertebrae of what must have once been a magnificent beast. Imagining this mighty creature at her command was almost too much for her to bear, and it wasn't until she heard the soft sound of water dripping that Delphi became conscious of the tears streaming down her face. Shocked, she touched her own wet cheek, as if making sure they, and she, were real.

_I'm not here, _she thought, dazed. _This isn't happening…after all; I've been hidden my whole life. Maybe I'm not a real person at all..._

She had no idea where her parents were buried.

The thought hit her out of nowhere, and with such force that Delphi felt she probably would have fallen to her knees if she were not already kneeling. She'd never thought about it, but it seemed such a horrendous oversight on her part that Delphi suddenly found herself nauseated.

_Surely mother is buried with the Blacks? _She thought wildly, head spinning. _Or else the Lestranges? She never did count them as family, though...why, why WHY DID I NEVER ASK ABOUT IT?!_

For a moment there was just the ambiance of the Chamber; dripping and lapping water, echoes, accompanied by Delphi's own harsh panting. Then...

_Where is father's body buried?_

Delphi barely managed to scramble a foot away from the massive skeleton before she was violently ill. Several moments later, when she'd regained some semblance of calm, she brushed a loose, slightly damp strand of hair back from her sweaty face, trying hard to breathe evenly. As she did so she caught a glimpse of her own watch; she had seven minutes left.

She was running again, her splashing footsteps echoing through the walls of the Chamber. She was too afraid to look at her watch as she fought through the near-crippling pain in her side as she sprinted back up the steps leading to the girls lavatory. Gasping like a dying woman, she hesitated at the entrance, listening.

Silence. Even that blubbering ghost girl was nowhere to be found. Sighing with relief, Delphi walked towards the exit, then froze in horror; the sound of hundreds of footsteps, paired with loud-racious talking met her ears. She was too late.

_I'm out of time, _the thought, her knees shaking beneath her. _I'm too late; I was BORN too late…_

_ No._

The thought broke through her agony, and although Delphi still felt her knees quivering beneath her, she forced herself to stand upright. Still invisible, she opened the door and slipped seamlessly into the stream of students heading towards their next class. She dogged lightly through the crowded hallway, barely brushing a soul, and the few she did touch probably assumed they'd nudged a fellow student.

_I was supposed to be one of you, _she thought as she raced along. _I would have been your better, your Princess...your Augurey, but still one of you…_

Delphi was doing spectacularly well when it came to dodging the students. She seemed to lose her usual clumsiness as she glided, almost flew, down the hall, scanning the faces carefully for the familiar shock of white-blond hair, but to no avail. Although the crowd showed no signs of thinning, she began to feel panic constricting her chest once again. How many class periods would she have to endure before she found the damn child? She could wait until classes were over, of course, and catch him in his dormitory, but it would be tremendously risky breaking into a place like that, no matter how much she desperately wished to see the living space founded by her own ancestor-

All the breath escaped from Delphi's lungs as she collided with something all-too-solid. With a grunt she landed hard on her tailbone, pain richotetting up her spine.

"Who's there?" an authoritative voice boomed above her, and Delphi felt her blood run cold. Thankfully, she was still completely transparent, but that fact would now be obvious to whoever she'd hit. Cringing from pain and embarrassment, she peered anxiously upward.

A tall boy of about fifteen or sixteen stood before her, chest inflated so that his green prefect's badge was clearly visible.

"I know you're there!" he declared loudly, causing several people to turn and gawk at this boy apparently about to give a lecture to thin air. "Don't you know it's against school policy for students to be invisible without express permission?"

_Arrogant bastard, _Delphi thought bitterly, cheeks burning. She needed to get out of the area, now. The prefect was attracting far too much attention. Giving the hall one last fruitless glance for Scorpius, she ducked into a nearby classroom as an extremely short wizard in robes of Ravenclaw blue demanded to know what the boy was doing.

Thankfully, the classroom appeared to be unused, as there were no desks present, and the windows were covered. Delphi crouched with her ear against the door, listening as the prefect, who's name was apparently "Bowker" was led away; his protests could be heard clearly down the corridor. Breathing a sigh of relief, Delphi turned to exit.

There was the faintest flicker of movement from the end of the room. Delphi straightened up immediately, her wand outstretched. Between her charm and the darkness, she would be invisible to the naked eye, but whoever was in here would have clearly seen the door open and shut of its own accord. She almost called out into the darkness,but common sense stopped her; best not give away her exact position. Wand aloft, Delphi crept forward until she met what seemed to be an archway. There were three people standing there, peering back at her. Squinting through the darkness, Delphi took another step, then stopped dead in her tracts. Her wand fell to the floor with a clater.

It was a mirror that she stood before, so naturally she saw herself standing there. Her expression was different, however. Instead of uncertainty and insecurity, there was a fierce gleam in her eyes that was difficult to place, but that seemed to radiate power, confidence, and even majesty; a regal look, befitting royalty. Yet it wasn't this that caused Delphi to do something so careless as to drop her own wand.

A woman stood to Delphi's left, an enormous smile on her face. The woman's face was gaunt, though it showed signs of once having been breathtakingly beautiful. Her wild dark curls fell to her waist, and her eyes were glowing with pride and excitement. She clasped her hands together gleefully, showcasing the Dark Mark branded on her left forearm.

A pale, thin hand came to rest on her reflection's shoulder. Delphi instinctively reached upwards to touch the spot, but of course there was nothing there. Instead, heart in her throat and at least four times larger than normal, Delphi followed the pale man's touch until it came to rest on his face.

Lord Voldemort was every bit as striking as she'd been told, and then some. Pale to the point of glowing in the semi-darkness, as well as skeletally thin. He appeared to have no lips, and the countless nose jokes she'd heard over the years appeared to be true as well. His eyes, completely red as if wearing sclera contact lenses, with catlike slits for pupils, met hers, and he smiled. It wasn't Bellatrix's overflowing joy, but in the Dark Lord's eyes Delphi could see a sort of possessive pride as he looked at his daughter. Even as she watched, the hand that wasn't resting on her shoulder ensnared itself around her mother's waist, pulling her to his side. With the three of them this close, it was obvious that she was a perfect blend, both in appearance and personality, of both her parents.

Delphi was aware that she should be crying, but somehow the tears that had flowed so freely down in the Chamber would not come now, though the aching void in her chest threatened to swallow her whole. This grief went beyond tears. She did fall to her knees, however, as her own reflection reached behind her to clasp her mother's hand in her own, giving it a little squeeze as she did so. Her other hand reached up, resting neatly on top of her father's. They had the same long, elegant fingers.

Something was stretching painfully at Delphi's left knee. Tearing her eyes away from the mirror, she rolled onto her right hip and examined her still damp trouser leg. There was something shiny and green wedged into the artificial tear in her tight black jeans. Mystified, she pried it free.

The substance was green, dry and flaky, so fragile it threatened to break apart in her hands. Yet she recognized the vibrant green color immediately; she'd picked up part of the dead basilisk's shed.

The sounds of the students were ebbing away.

With agonized eyes she turned back to the mirror one final time; her parents were still watching her intently.

"I'll make you real," she whispered brokenly. "I'll make _this _real!"

Bellatrix squeezed her reflection's hand, and her father nodded, not breaking eye contact. Biting her lip and with more effort that she'd ever exerted in her life, Delphi stood and turned away from her future, headed at a dead sprint for the door.

The hallway was nearly deserted; only a few students were left milling around, clearly so close to their destinations they felt no need for haste. Delphi couldn't help but notice with some amusement that everyone, boys and girls alike, were giving the bathroom with the Chamber's entrance a wide berth; apparently Myrtle was as much a terror as ever.

Yet it was another ghost who caught her eye. Silvery-white, not unlike her new hair color, with an obviously bloodstained ruff fastened around his neck. It was amazing that the students of Hogwarts interacted with these beings everyday and thought nothing of it; something else she'd been robbed of. _Yet would I have come here? _ She mused, _Or would Mum and Dad have thought I was too good for Hogwarts, or else it too dangerous for their child-_

"Hello, Sir Nicholas!" one small girl called cheerfully to the ghost. Beaming, the man with the ruff bowed deeply, and in the process, his head flopped completely off his neck to one side.

Delphi gasped; she couldn't help it. To her astonishment she also felt faintly nauseated, though she did her best to brush this aside as a thought occurred to her. _This ghost is familiar with the students…_

Quick as a flash she ducked back into the empty classroom, feeling the reflected eyes of her parents burning into the back of her skull. _I'm taking such a chance, _she thought. _But I'm almost out of time…_

With a shaking hand, she removed her transparency charm.

"E-exuse me!" she gasped, bursting through the door. "EXCUSE ME!"

A few of the students turned to look at her, mystified, but she ignored them. The ghostly man seemed not to hear her, continuing to glide down the corridor.

"NICOLAS!" she shrieked, all her desperation causing her voice to reverberate loudly back at her. Several people were staring now but she didn't care. "SIR NICHOLAS!"

This seemed to catch his attention. Slowly, the ghost turned, his head wobbling dangerously on his ruffed neck.

"Whats that?" he asked, confused. "Who said that?" The ghost's eyes then rested upon her, and Delphi saw them widen with what must have been shock; she clearly wasn't a student, otherwise he would have recognized her. "Who-?" he began but Delphi cut him off.

"I-I'm looking for someone!" she gasped, clutching the throbbing stitch in her ribs. "A-a relative of mine. Scorpius Malfoy."

"Ah!" Nicholas said, looking suddenly jovial. "Well, why didn't you say so, dear lady? Visiting are we?"

"Yes," Delphi said simply, using the full effect of her large, round eyes on him, looking up through her lashes. She knew this trick well enough to know its effect; it made her seem younger, childlike...an ingenue. "And I can't seem to find him anywhere…

"Well, you'll have to hurry to catch him before his next class," Nicholas said delicately, seeming to soften as he looked at her. "Perhaps if you waited until daily classes are over-"

"NO!" Delphi said, a little too loudly; people were beginning to stare at her again. "I'm sorry-I mean-I don't have much time."

The ghostly man looked at her for a moment, seeming to deliberate wit himself. Delphi could feel a shriek of utter frustration rising within her. If he wouldn't help her…

"He should be upstairs right now," Sir NIcholas said promptly, then turned and pointed towards one of the winding stairs just visible at the end of the corridor. "He'll be coming down those stairs in a moment to get to-"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts" Delphi interrupted before she could stop herself. "He-um...wrote me his schedule."

Sir Nicholas beamed at her. "Ah," he sighed. "It is so good to see families that are so very close with one another. Well, I won't detain you. Good luck, miss!" And with that, he turned abruptly into the wall and disappeared.

Blinking for a moment in shock, Delphi stood there, then immediately turned and walked towards the staircase the ghost had pointed out. She didn't run now, just kept up with her usual fast paced walk. Reaching her destination, she scurried off to the left of the stairs, where the combination of the staircase and hanging tapestry cast the corridor in shadow.

Everything was whirling in her brain; the sorting hats words, the basilisk's corpse, her parents smiles, all of these things made her want to scream and cry and leap and explode and fade into oblivion and also live forever. Her mind was in such a riot; she couldn't think. What was she to say to Scorpius? She'd never had the influence over him she did over Albus, but it was clear now she needed both of them for her plan to succeed. How could she get him to go along with her plan, and think it was hers? How-?

A dejected boy with white blonde hair was walking slowly down the staircase.

_I'm ok, _Delphi thought, clasping her shaking hands together. She thought of her parents' faces in the mirror. _I have to be._

Glancing around furtively, she scurried forward; the corridor was almost empty now, and no one was watching. Scorpius, reaching the bottom, looked up and met her eyes with astonishment. Before he could speak, she interrupted him, still slightly out of breath.

"So-technically-I shouldn't be here."

* * *

Author's Notes

I do not own _Harry Potter_ or _Harry Potter and the Cursed Child _specifically; all rights go to J.K. Rowling, John Tiffany and Jack Thorn. I do not make any monetary gain from the writing of this story. I'm just a determined young woman who understands this character a little too well...and my name is actually Riddle, so there is that. (:


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